


A Sense of Belonging

by CeeceePepper



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Genji probably suffers from depression, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Hanzo, There needs to be more Genyatta on this website, also a lot of smooches, honestly, its a lot of genyatta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2016-06-19
Packaged: 2018-07-15 23:38:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7243453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CeeceePepper/pseuds/CeeceePepper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>ASK: Can I get some feelsy Genji? He's my baby and your writing is honestly a+<br/>Yes, oh my god. And I ship him with Zenyatta so maybe I can slip that in there >: 3c<br/>---</p>
<p>In which Genji can't sleep due to his anxieties and memories, and goes to his Sensei for help.</p>
<p>[Very fluffy! Read at your own risk of squeeing].</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Sense of Belonging

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I know I need to update my other series, but this ask was just too cute to pass up!! I'll be updating everything else up later -- for now, take this genyatta!!

It was so late. Genji had training in the morning, he had things he had to do, and yet here he was, up late at night laying down. Thinking too much. He could feel his body giving to the tired, and yet, he just couldn't sleep. His head ached, his heart hurt, and he was just in general very down. He didn't even know why, either. Something stupid, he could assume.

He sat up in his bed, looking down at the floor. His visor was glowing against himself, to the floor, a dim green glow that reminded him of what he was: an in-betweener, not belonging to any groups. He was not a robot, he was not a person. When he looked at his hands, they were not a persons, they were not artificial. They were just... whatever Genji was. Person? Robot? Who knew.

He felt his heart pull at the thought. He wished Hanzo were here-- when they were younger, and Genji couldn't sleep, he'd lay in the same futon roll as Hanzo. They'd cuddle up and fall asleep like that, often times Hanzo's fluffy hair getting in his face and tickling him awake.

Hanzo... He missed his brother. Almost being killed by him, for trying to save the world; and then, when he returned, his brother not calling him his own. Calling him fake. Disowning him. He should've known it was coming. He should've known the thing he had become would be rejected. And when that happened, he abandoned everything; his life, Overwatch, his family. Or, more or less, he was left behind in the dust.

Left to pick up the pieces shattered, destroyed by himself. Then he found Zenyatta, and began picking up the pieces with him, putting them back together.

Zenyatta. God, he could think of him for days. And when he looked at himself with Zenyatta, he felt accepted, not thrown away. Not broken. Not pieced. He was Genji.

He shuddered. He was all alone right now; Zenyatta was most likely meditating, and he didn't want to bother him.

The tug in his chest hurt. If he could cry, Genji would be. He'd let the tears fall on his soft, battered palms, letting them trace the patterns of scars as they fell down due to gravity. He'd let his face go numb, let his chest heave up and down, letting it all out. But he couldn't-- not with this body. Not with the way he had become. He could just generate electricty at best, light his lights up at worst. Maybe he could hold his head, maybe he could hold himself. It wouldn't do anything for the internal pain -- he could ease the headache, but not the heartache.  
Maybe he needed to meditate some more. Inner demons weren't supposed to bother him this badly, but he knew they'd be active at night. No, meditation wouldn't do that. Perhaps he should get Zenyatta?

Conflicted, Genji sat there for minutes, holding a hand to his metallic face, breath heaving his shoulders up and down until he finally stood, finding his way through the dark room, to the doorway. There was light underneath the doorway -- meaning Zenyatta was still meditating in the other room. Perhaps it wasn't best to bother him right now.

He hesitated, and he fought with himself internally. Zenyatta had dealt with this type of thing before, and he was sure he wouldn't mind-- but what if he was struggling with something as well? What if he didn't have the time for Genji?

Genji opened the door, sliding it open with two hands and closing it behind himself. Zenyatta didn't move, sitting in his normal position, floating off his small pillow he used for sitting. There was one nearby -- it was Genji's. Just his. Genji shyly made his way over, heart heavy as he picked his pillow and moved it in front of Zenyatta's, sitting on it on his knees. He bowed down, and he heard Zenyatta shuffle.

"Yes, Genji?"

"Master Zenyatta, I apologize deeply, I..."

Zenyatta moved to stop floating, sitting down quietly on his pillow and putting his hands on his knees calmly. Genji could tell Zenyatta was watching him -- Zenyatta had no movable eyes, but he could tell. They worked well like that.

"Something is amiss. What is wrong?"

Genji held his head down.

"I... It goes without saying those demons I have wrestled with in the past have come to visit me once again, Sensei."

"Which ones?"

"..."

"Sit up, and tell me. Please."

The word made Genji stiffen, shuddering as he sat up and looked away, his hands coming into his lap obediently. Zenyatta and Genji sat there, silent, for a few moments, before Zenyatta carefully leaned forward, setting a hand on Genji's. It carried warmth with it-- the wiring and bolts inside working in a system that gave off minute amounts of energy. Warmth that felt almost as if Zenyatta was a living person. Warmth Genji could feel with his sensors.

He looked at thier hands, turning his palm-up to see it. It was metallic, but stretchy. Still plush like a persons, polished like an Omnic's.

"...When I look at my hands, I do not see a person, nor do I see an Omnic. I see the parts left behind."

Zenyatta tilted his head in care as he moved Genji's up, their metal fingers slowly intertwining. Genji looked up to him hesitantly.

"When I hold this hand, who's hand is it I am holding?" Zenyatta asked. Genji perked to the question, tilting his head in reply.

"It is mine."

"Who is 'mine?"

".... It is Genji's. Mine."

"Who is Genji?"

Genji paused. What was he getting at?

"I am Genji."

If Zenyatta could smile, he would be right now, he could hear it in the exhale.

"That is all that matters."

Genji paused once again, the gears clicking in his head slowly.

"I... What do you mean?"

"It does not matter what you are -- human or Omnic. You are Genji. That's all that matters. What you've done and experienced is what matters. _You_  matter."

"..."

Genji grew quiet, looking back at their hands. He was right, Genji knew that; he wasn't an Omnic, and he wasn't a human. He was Genji, the person who tore the Shimada's criminal record down with his bare hands, and almost died for it. Twice. He was the one who went through and became Zenyatta's, the most delicate man in the world held him in high esteem. He was the one who grew up from a playboy to become one of the deadliest assassins in the world.

And more importantly, he didn't belong to either group. He belonged to himself.

He belonged to Zenyatta.

He squeezed the Omnic monk's hand, looking away.

"I do not deserve you.." He choked out, putting his free hand to his head, holding it away. His headache was starting to hurt again.

Zenyatta let go of his hand to stand up, moving the pillow beside Genji to sit down once again. Genji watched from the corners of his visor, the movements of the other. Zenyatta opened his arms slightly, and Genji simply paused before he let go of his head, and set it against Zenyatta's shoulder, moving over. Zenyatta pulled him in, every one of his movements careful and planned, gentle, as he coaxed the tired other into his arms. Genji let him, too, laying against Zenyatta as the other traced the ribbon coming from his helmet between his Omnic fingers, their fingers re-intwining together, as Genji started to calm down. He could feel his headache slowly going away, tiredness washing back over him.

"It is very late."

"I know. I apologize."

"Do not. You had reason."

Genji grumbled, noticing Zenyatta looking at him from above. He glanced up, pausing. What was he-  
Zenyatta leaned down, the metal of his yellow-painted mouth clinking against Genji's helmet, a small spark of electricity going between the helmets before he pulled away shortly after. A small kiss, from an Omnic.

Genji wished he could blush, but all that happened was the light on his chest grew brighter, Genji looking away. He could hear an audible chuckle from Zenyatta.

Yes, things were okay. He could belong to no group, Omnic or Human.

Just as long as he belonged with Zenyatta.


End file.
